He's My Blind Man In The Bleachers
By Robert E. Meyer (10/18/04)
In 1975, singer/songwriter David Geddes scored a hit with the song "The Blind Man in the Bleachers." It relayed a story about an unmotivated, so-so football player who has a career game. Afterward, he was asked where the inspiration for his performance came from. He explained that this was the first game his father had seen him play--for his father was blind and had recently died. The same story was retold in a book called, "Life is Tremendous" by Charley Jones. It was a book that was highly recommended reading by my friend George.
Three years ago October 16th, my lifelong friend and mentor, George Honkomp passed into his heavenly abode, after enduring a devastating and debilitating medical condition. Many years before George’s untimely death, we were having a conversation, in which George told me that if anything ever happened to him, he was confident that I could and would carry on in his stead. In recent years some people have asked me where I get the inspiration for my activism. I have to attribute it in large part to the foundations laid during the early years of my friendship with George.
Almost from the time I met him in front of a local YMCA, at the tender age of 14, George and I forged a unique chemistry of friendship and mutual respect, that one is fortunate to discover even once in a lifetime. I still have the picture of our first encounter embossed in my memory.
The first thing I learned about George was that he was generous to those he called friends. After an evening of pick-up basketball, he often treated everyone in our group to hamburgers and malts at a local diner. He would play everyone’s favorite songs on the juke box while we ate.
In the early days of our friendship, we often took long walks, during which time he would expound on life's truths and lessons. It was then I really discovered his wisdom and blue collar genius. As I walked away to go home, I would often stop, turn around and shake my head, watching him walk into his house, in awe of all that I had just learned. I felt like an apprentice to a great philosopher.
A well-known football player once praised his legendary coach, for his ability to motivate the players to achieve beyond a level even the players thought was possible-George had that same ability to inspire. Under his tutelage, I achieved more than I ever thought was possible.
It was once said that you can tell a lot about the character of a person, by the way they treat someone who can't do anything for them. I immediately thought of George. You see, George judged his own success according to his ability to help you accomplish what you needed to do. He was a lifter, not a leaner- one who not only gave fish to others, but showed them how to catch fish that they might help themselves. George never asked for a lighter burden in life, but only for the strength to carry the load
Our friendship was tested when I had to leave town do to family concerns, and for the next couple years I only saw him periodically. During this period George became involved with a Bible study, and would enthusiastically share the scriptures with me when I came to visit. Each time he would give me some things to cogitate on until the next time I saw him.
For George, the quality and greatness of life was a matter of perception. He confided in me that he enjoyed small intimate home fellowships more than large corporate worship. During one such Bible study at his home, he made an interesting and lasting illustration. He pointed out that life is like a glass of water; some focus on their trials seeing the part half empty. Others count their blessings seeing the glass half full. That was a lesson that has proven to be among the most useful things I have yet learned.
I recall a letter he once sent to me while I served in the military (an idea he fostered) after high school. He told me he was praying for me daily, and that he cherished my friendship. I realized then, that he received as much joy, giving to me, as I got learning from him. I have kept that letter to this day.
After my time in the service was up, I got to fulfill the dream I had of being together on a daily basis again. We shared a duplex together for six months, until he got married and I served as "best man" for the wedding. Our friendship continued on, and for many years we bowled on a team at least one night per week.
In his last years, I witnessed George renew himself in the Christian faith that had been his anchor in youth. We met together on an afternoon every several weeks, and had discussions that were reminiscent of those "power walks" we took in our youth.
George became aware he had serious medical problems only days after I last saw him. During that meeting, by providence and fortune, I had the opportunity to tell George things that I wanted to say for years. I told him that he had been like a brother to me. I thanked him for his many years of friendship and fellowship. I said that I was sorry for my failings as a friend. It was as emotional as any encounter I ever had with him.
A week or so before suffering the coma from which he wouldn't awaken, and sensing that difficulty might lie ahead, he had the presence to comfort his wife, telling her, "Don't worry Sue, we will see each other in Heaven." George believed that faith was the substance that traverses the bridge over the troubled waters of uncertainty and doubts. He understood that the inequities of life are not always balanced and rectified here, but in the life to come.
People frequently ask the question, "What would make this world a better place?" I can tell you that if everyone had a friend like George-or better yet, if they were a friend to others, as George was to me, this world would improve come tomorrow.
Applying his own standard then, I could be bitter in losing a friend so young; or I could be grateful for having so many memories and years together-so many seasons in the sun. I choose the latter. Instead of climbing on a rooftop to shake my fist at the heavens for his loss, I remember his exhortations- to carry on in his behalf if anything ever should happen to him
Knowing that our gift from God is our very lives, and our gift back to him is what we do with it; there are implications for what I should do with the remaining time I have. One legitimately asks the question of how best to honor men such as these. I think the best way might be to stand on their shoulders--the foundations they have laid, and by God’s grace try to reach just a bit higher. Though I have missed George greatly in the three years since his departure, I look forward to the day we will be reunited, and for now George will be for me like that blind man no longer having to watch from the wooden bleachers.
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